


the places where you linger

by cinnaminnt, miintleaf



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Angels & Demons, Alternate Universe - Supernatural (TV) Fusion, Angel Shiro (Voltron), Blasphemy, Demon Keith (Voltron), Kissing, Light Angst, M/M, Mutual Pining, Pining Keith (Voltron), Pining Shiro (Voltron), Sort Of, horny on main Keith basically, playing fast and loose with supernatural rules, shiro's so tired
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-08
Updated: 2018-09-08
Packaged: 2019-07-08 16:45:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,105
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15934424
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cinnaminnt/pseuds/cinnaminnt, https://archiveofourown.org/users/miintleaf/pseuds/miintleaf
Summary: “I came to issue a warning. You have to stop playing around, Keith. Breaking the seals isn’t something to be done out of spite. It needs to cease, immediately. Or else.”“Or else?We both know being spiteful is exactly what Daddy would do. I thought you would like that. Didn’t you always want me in his image?”Shiro’s eyes widen and he looks affronted before glancing off into the distance. “Not like this, Keith.” Shiro’s pale eyes glow with something almost like sadness. “You know what I want is for you to come back.”“Come back?” Keith throws his head back and laughs bitterly. He looks back up at Shiro, red eyes narrowed. "You're joking, right?"“Father misses you, we miss you. I… miss you.” Shiro says, looking like the words almost get caught in this throat.“I don’t miss them.” Keith snaps, can’t bring himself to say he doesn’t miss Shiro, and isn't that just poetry?-Just one of the many attempts Shiro makes to get Keith to return to Heaven after falling. (Keith is, as always, not interested.)





	the places where you linger

**Author's Note:**

> Loosely inspired by [lightning_strikes](https://twitter.com/L_Strikes_art) & [pining_sheith](https://twitter.com/pining_sheith)'s Supernatural AU.
> 
> We know very little about Supernatural but we had a lot of feelings so here's this idk. Timeline-wise, this would take place in the past before the events of Sa's comic with the idea being that by the time the comic happens, they've been apart for a long time and are very estranged. 
> 
> fic title from John Lucas' [cathedrals](https://johnlucas.bandcamp.com/track/cathedrals-2)
> 
> you can also find our playlist for this take on the AU on [spotify](https://open.spotify.com/user/thecolfox/playlist/7aa2gg0vXvMWDH1hFUt0Zr?si=kTbnbXiLQxeerPIfQfqU-A).

The desert’s barren— just Keith standing at this crossroads on the outskirts of a city that twinkles like jewels set in a mountainside in the distance. This stretch of road is mostly abandoned, but there are neon lights glowing in the distance advertising for a strip club or a liquor store, casting warm, colorful hues over the worn streets, luring in lonely souls. It’s one of his easier enterprises. No deals, no pain, just let the humans come like moths drawn to the flame.  
  
The lights nearest to him, still a few hundred yards away, start to flicker and buzz. A ring pierces the silence of the night and a wry smile curls around Keith’s mouth. Always one for a dramatic entrance, huh. There’s a flash of white, white light and then Shiro is there, standing in front of him. Broad and solid and— has he mentioned recently how much he _likes_ this vessel? It’s a keeper for sure. There aren’t many human vessels that could claim to suit Shiro, but this one is the best so far, even if he’s suffered a little cosmetic damage in the line of duty. The scar on this face, Shiro’s face is red and angry still, and Keith wonders how many centuries it will take for it to settle and fade; wonders if Shiro ever resents it. His perfect, splendid face marred with the reminder of when Shiro rebelled against the Lord to defend Keith and was punished for it. Wisps of white smoke peter away from his shoulders and he looks at Keith, emotionless— the great and terrible archangel of the lord, slayer of demons and champion among angels.  
  
And then his pale eyes soften just a little, in that oh so familiar way. It’s been decades since they’ve seen each other. Maybe centuries? It’s hard to tell these days. But that look never ceases to make him weak in the knees.  
  
“Keith.”  
  
“ _Feathers_.” He greets, taking a drag off his cigarette before blowing the smoke off to the side. “... It’s good to see you.”  
  
Shiro frowns a little, then. “Why do you insist on calling me that? Ever since—”  
  
“Since Daddy kicked me out?” Keith finishes for him. Shiro doesn’t look amused.  
  
“Ever since you fell, you call me that. Is my name so repulsive to you now?”  
  
“It’s what they all call you downstairs. Sure you want me _soiling_ your precious name on my dirty, demon tongue?”  
  
Shiro gives a long suffering sigh. “You know that’s not how I feel, Keith.”  
  
Keith scoffs, takes another drag and blows the smoke directly at Shiro’s face. It’s a little spiteful, but he’s feeling less than generous this go around. He knows what Shiro’s here to ask for, and the answer’s going to be the same as always.  
  
“No? You could show me, then. I could show _you_ .” Keith circles Shiro, eyes shining unnaturally in the light casting off Shiro. “It’ll be just like old times.”  
  
“We can’t,” he says, and Keith thinks (or hopes, maybe, in an achey way he'll never admit to) that Shiro almost sounds remorseful.  
  
The memory hangs in the air between them, soft bodies and softer feathers all tangled up together. Keith was beautiful then. His hair was white and his eyes were pale and amethyst, the envy of many, but all he wanted was Shiro. How many centuries did he spent staring into Shiro’s cloudy gray eyes, happily lost there. Back then, Shiro was the only thing that mattered to him— the injustice, the unfairness of God’s creation didn’t mean anything to Keith. As long as he could bask in Shiro’s light and warmth in times of peace and fight by his side at times of war, Keith was content. The echo of Shiro’s true voice— voices— sounds in his head like a distant bell his smoke-choked throat aches to call back to.  
  
But he can’t. His throat is rough and raw and lined with soot and ember and he doesn’t have the words to respond to that voice anymore. All he can do is talk to Shiro like this, in human tongue, and pretend it’s enough.  
  
“Yeah. Figured as much.” He finishes the cigarette, drops it and stomps it out under his heavy, black boot before lighting up another with a snap of his fingers. One of the benefits of being a permanent resident of Hell. “So, what can I help you with, Shiro? Or maybe you just missed me?”  
  
“I came to issue a warning. You have to stop playing around, Keith. Breaking the seals isn’t something to be done out of spite. It needs to cease, immediately. Or else.”  

“ _Or else_? We both know being spiteful is _exactly_ what _Daddy_ would do. I thought you would like that. Didn’t you always want me in his image?”

Shiro’s eyes widen and he looks affronted before glancing off into the distance. “Not like this, Keith.” Shiro’s pale eyes glow with something almost like sadness. “You know what I want is for you to come back." 

“Come back?” Keith throws his head back and laughs bitterly. He looks back up at Shiro, red eyes narrowed. "You're joking, right?"   
  
“Father misses you, we miss you. I… miss you.” Shiro says, looking like the words almost get caught in this throat.  
  
“I don’t miss them.” Keith snaps, can’t bring himself to say he doesn’t miss Shiro, and isn't that just poetry? Everything in hell suffers, and Keith’s torment is to ache for Shiro with everything he was and is, forever.  
  
“Don’t be stubborn, Keith. All you have to do is apologize.”  
  
Keith smirks, tight and mocking and says, “I’m sorry daddy, I’ve been very bad.”  
  
Shiro rubs at the bridge of his nose, sighing. “You know that’s not the phrase.” As if there's some way Keith couldn't know. As if he could _forget—_  oh, what he wouldn't give to forget.  
Keith disappears in thick, black ribbons of smoke only to reappear right in front of Shiro, pressed up against him with his arms slung around his neck. Tall and broad fits Shiro like his tailored three-piece suit.  
  
“Forgive me, baby, for I have sinned,” Keith breathes against him, eyes lidded heavily, mouths nearly touching. Keith won’t say the words, not the real ones; he won’t give anyone up there the satisfaction. He feels, more than hears, Shiro exhale unevenly and _that—_  well, he'll consider that one a win. Warmth trickles down his spine, and Keith grins and leans back to look at him. The sour expression on Shiro’s face makes him crumple.  
  
“You don’t have the right to look at me like that." Keith's voice has lost its flirty tone, settling into something quiet and cold.

“You deserve so much more than this.” Shiro’s voice is soft, almost a coo, and Keith feels a long lost tug in his chest. Like everything’s calm and warm and Keith is safe, so safe, tucked up against Shiro, wrapped up in dozens and dozens of downy wings. Back when Shiro was faultless and Keith was his favorite. The sensation is swallowed up by disgust crawling under his skin, rage boiling up unbidden and unrestrained— emotions Keith no longer knows how to not feel.  
  
“How can you say that?!” Keith shoves him back. “How can you say that after what he did to us?! What he’s done to this world?! He ruins everything he touches!”  
  
There’s a flash and the shadow of Shiro’s enormous wings erupts behind him, eyes burning white hot as he bellows Keith’s name in more voices than Keith can count. His tone brokers no argument, but Keith has never known when to stop and he’s not about to learn now.  
  
“It’s true! Look what he did to you, Shiro! That scar across your face, all because we loved each other! Because you tried to protect me, to defend what we were! What kind of benevolent God punishes their children for love and compassion?! This world… it’s suffering, Shiro. It’s riddled with greed and pride and people are tearing each other apart. Can you blame them?! I can’t! Meanwhile _Daddy_ does nothing to help. He’s just left them down here to rot.”  
  
“We committed a sin, Keith. Even angels face consequences for their actions.”  
  
“We loved each other!” Keith roars, ash and smoke swirling around him, fire flickering behind his eyes.  
  
Shiro looks at him, too stoic, too calm— it makes Keith want to scream, to tear into him, to tear _himself_ apart just to see if he can drag some sort of reaction out of Shiro. “We loved each other more than Him,” Shiro says evenly. “We knew there would be a price.”  
  
The scars. The angry cut across Shiro’s face, and another along Keith’s cheek. No matter what form they take, what vessels they choose, the scars will always be there. A punishment for their 'sin.' Shiro accepted it with grace, but Keith… Keith wasn’t the same afterward. His hair turned dark, his eyes grew cloudy. The resentment burrowed deep in his bones until Keith couldn’t see anything but the injustice of heaven, and then of Earth, and hell. The fall was inevitable.  
  
Shiro tried, desperate and patient and kind. He tried everything to bring Keith back to the light, but he was too far gone, and Keith knows even now Shiro considers it a personal failing that he wasn’t able to stop Keith from the fall. His last memory of heaven is Shiro’s eyes, pained but resigned as Keith slipped through his fingers. The next thing Keith remembers is waking up in hell and thinking that even the torture didn’t compare to the pain of being without Shiro.  
  
“Maybe. But at least we knew the rules. What about humans? He just made them and then left them to destroy one another. They don’t know anyone’s watching over them! God doesn’t care, the angels don’t care… we can’t just create monsters and then punish them.”  
  
“I’m watching them, Keith. We watched over them together.”  
  
“Liar!” Keith hisses again, voice dripping with venom. “They were nothing. We treated them like ants.”  
  
Shiro frowns, eyes narrowing. “And now? You think you’re serving humanity, stealing their souls and sending them to hell to suffer for eternity?”  
  
“At least I give them some happiness while they’re alive! I grant their wishes, I answer their prayers, I’m fair about the cost. I do what I can, in place of a God that wants nothing to do with any of this.” Keith glances off, mouth screwed tight.  
  
“Whether we like it or not, there are rules—”  
  
“Sometimes the rules need to be broken!”  
  
Shiro watches him, eyes darker now and resigned and god he just looks so tired. “I guess I shouldn’t be surprised you’ve garnered quite a following, talking like that. You always were a born leader.”  
  
Keith looks up at him, red eyes wide and then he hisses, “Don’t. Don’t talk to me like before.” He can't stop his voice from shaking.  
  
“It’s true. I’m not surprised you came up the ranks so quickly.” Shiro looks up at the sky. “I always thought I was holding you back from something better. Greater. I have to admit, this… wasn’t exactly what I had in mind.”  
  
“I’m doing what I have to, to survive.” It's bitter, defensive. Keith was forced into this place, driven here with his wings clipped like he was dirty and wrong and he refuses to let anyone forget that.  
  
“Don’t lie to me, you’re inciting a war. And you know what that means for me.”  
  
“Is that a threat? Big bad _feathers_ coming to get me?” Keith mocks, sparks flickering at the tip of his tongue.

Shiro moves in for the first time, reaches out and cups his cheek softly. “You’ve always been strong, Keith… but I will kill you if I have to. Please, don’t make me.” There's a sweetness, a tenderness to Shiro's voice that doesn't match his words.  
  
Keith’s arms wrap around Shiro’s shoulders and he presses close with a bitter smirk. “So he has a sense of humor after all, sending _you_ to kill me.” Their lips almost brush together, just barely don't. “But do you have it in you?”  
  
“I don’t want to, Keith. I’d rather you came home with me. You can still be forgiven.”  
  
“I don’t want his forgiveness. Just yours…” Keith mumbles, looking up at Shiro and letting his soot-smudged fingers stroke at the back of Shiro’s hair. They’re so close. It almost feels like how things used to be.  _Shiro_ almost feels like how he used to. Like this, Keith can nearly trick himself into thinking, wishing that maybe this time, if he just tells Shiro how he really feels… His antagonizing facade slips, and Keith stumbles into foolish honesty. “You could fall with me. Think of all the things we could change together, the people we could help—we could take them all on, could be together again…  We were a pretty good team back in the day.”

“We were.” Shiro thumbs over his cheek and then they’re breathing the same air. It’s so sweet and warm and just a tiny, tiny bit burnt, Keith thinks, like marshmallows roasting to a crisp on a fire. It feels like a sign, a glimpse of what they could be. “... But it’s in the past.” 

Keith flinches, and his mouth curls into a frown, brows drawn tight in hurt and disbelief. “Why. _Why._  I don’t get it. Nothing’s different, we’re not different!”

“ _Everything_ is different, Keith.” It’s the first time Shiro looks like he’s really feeling something, not just an echo, like Keith’s found a crack in his armor. Keith wants to stick his blade into it, wedge it open until he can grasp Shiro's heart and squeeze. “We sinned, we were punished, you couldn’t forgive Him and you fell. I _tried_ to stop it. I did everything I could to save you but you didn’t want to be saved. What do you want me to do now? Now that you’ve become _this_?” The words sting like a brand, and Keith's red eyes burn. Anger and hurt and anguish are hard to split and Keith doesn't bother trying to distinguish the emotions, just lets the tide crash over him.  

He drags Shiro in by his collar and their mouths slam together, a shockwave of energy exploding out from them. Dust and sand kicks up in a circle around their bodies, debris spitting out from the ground at their feet. This, Keith thinks, is what it feels like to be alive. His pulse is racing in his throat, his wrists, his inner thighs. His face feels hot and his throat tight. It’s almost _novel_ , the sensation of being human. Keith kisses crushingly, bruisingly, mouth moving rough against Shiro’s. He can taste brimstone and char on Shiro— tastes _himself_ on Shiro. Shiro shifts… and then kisses Keith back, fingers gripping at the back of his neck.

He feels like gasoline-soaked tinder with a match dropped on it. Keith surges up hard, ablaze, bruises this pretty human mouth of his. Then he bites down onto Shiro’s lower lip and tugs, wanting to bruise him, too. It feels like his bones are rattling. There’s something welling up in Keith, something he couldn’t put a name to before he fell. Now, he knows enough to ascribe the sensation to want. Of course, if he felt some sort of fledgling form of want when they were in Heaven together, it’s been cranked up to eleven now. Even more so in this body. It’s all humans ever do, _want_. They want with a fervor that Keith is experiencing for the first time in all its intensity, because it’s Shiro. It’s always been Shiro, and Keith _wants_. A whine rips out of Keith, catching even him off guard. He feels Shiro shudder up against him, sweats he can hear the rustle of feathers. Keith takes the opportunity to lick over Shiro’s mouth with his tongue, teasing at the join between his lips. Shiro’s hand slides down, presses firm at the center of Keith’s chest… and in one sharp motion, he shoves Keith back with an accompanying gust of wind.

For a long few moments, neither of them say anything. Keith’s pupils are blown wide, chest rising and falling rapidly as he tries to catch his breath. There’s a pink flush in Shiro’s cheeks that Keith feels a wash of pride for having put it there. The hum in his veins hasn’t faded any; if anything, Keith can feel it more now that they’re not kissing anymore. But he doesn’t act on it, just drags the back of his hand over his mouth with a long sigh and a shake of his head.

“What, it wasn’t good for you, too?”

Shiro stares at him, eyes wide and maybe just a shade or two darker than their standard steely grey. “I…” he starts, stops, gulps. Keith watches his throat bob. It looks like Shiro is struggling with something, and before Keith can toss another comment his way, there’s the fluttering sound of wings and too bright too white light and Shiro is just… gone. Keith frowns, looks behind himself. Nothing. He scuffs his boot against the ground, paces around a minute or so, but there’s still nothing.

Did Shiro just… leave, all because Keith kissed him? But he seemed pretty into it. Unless… Keith thinks of Shiro’s dark eyes, his inability to string a sentence together, and a sharp laugh barks out of him.

“Wow,” Keith laughs breathily. “So it was _too_ good for you.” He’s warm with amusement and satisfaction, but it only serves to mask the bitterness swelling in Keith’s chest. He’s sure the Shiro from before Keith’s fall would confide in him, tell him how he was feeling so they could both figure it out together. Keith’s jaw sets and his teeth clench hard before he spits onto the ground. It’s fine. That Shiro is gone now, and the Keith that he would have confided in back then is gone, too. Maybe there’s nothing left for either of them here. Bile and sulfur rises at the back of his throat before Keith swallows it down.

“Sorry about your boner!” Keith yells at nothing. If Shiro’s still listening, he’ll hear it. If not, it doesn’t really matter, does it? Keith turns and takes a few steps. His tongue darts out over his lips one last time before he disappears into a swirl of black smoke, and as he does he can’t help but think that he tastes something on his mouth that reminds him of Shiro.

**Author's Note:**

> if you, too, have no desire to be summoned out of sheith hell, you can find us on twitter:  
> [cinnaminnt](https://twitter.com/cinnaminnt)  
> [miintleaf](https://twitter.com/miintleaves)  
> and cinnaminnt on tumblr: [here](https://asongstress.tumblr.com/)


End file.
